Written for metallic-sweet, who requested this in my request a drabble post in LJ.
I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist.
Greed's followers would never forget the day he decided to be a psychologist.
It all started when he found an old book entitled 'Psychology for Dummies' (which Kimblee later noted that the title suited him perfectly. A little after that, Greed noted how Kimblee's new black eye suited him perfectly).
Kimblee had been the first to volunteer to be seen by the 'doctor'.
He was completely floored when he saw Greed wearing a pair of business pants, a white button-up shirt and tie, and his sunglasses were replaced with a pair of black, plastic rimmed glasses.
"What in the hell are you wearing?" Kimblee demanded, sitting on the funny-looking sofa bed that he had never before seen in his life.
"My work outfit. I should look the part if people are going to take me seriously."
Kimblee was tempted to mention that no one was going to take him seriously either way, but stopped himself. "You might want to pack on a few pounds and loose some hair, then," he said instead.
"I'll dress the part, but I refuse to make myself any less sexy for my job."
Kimblee waved his hand carelessly, before laying down.
"Have you been to a psychiatrist before?" Greed asked.
Kimblee shrugged. "One or... ten," he answered. "A couple in prison. My mother sent me to a couple, too."
Greed nodded. "Are you known of having any mental illnesses?"
"I suffer from disorganized schizophrenia," Kimblee told him, and noticed the look on Greed's face. "I can't help laughing at inappropriate things," he explained.
"Like what?" Greed asked.
"Well, my fourth doctor diagnosed it after I blew-up his parakeet and couldn't stop laughing for a full twenty minutes. I was thirteen."
Greed nodded. "That's very normal for a child."
Kimblee smiled at him widely. "That's what I told him!
"Then there was the eighth doctor who said the same thing after I had blown up eight other prisoners and I laughed for a good two hours." He snickered at the memory. "You should've seen the looks on their faces."
"I see nothing wrong with that."
"Me neither!" Kimblee exclaimed, looking as though he had finally found someone who understood him.
"I hereby declare you 100 sane," Greed announced.
Kimblee jumped up and kissed Greed full on the lips. "Thanks, doc'! You've taken a load off my chest."
He laughed gleefully all the way back to his chambers.
Luckily for everyone else, Greed lost interest about fifteen minutes into his session with Martel, when he decided he wanted to become a banker.
Con Crit more than welcome. Flames will be mocked.